Audits are tedious and painstaking. After three years of doing them, I still have to have a talk with myself before I start. Be patient, be thorough, be alert to all details. 99% are routine, be they internal or external. Everyone knows they will be audited. Sure they are a necessary evil, but when you have to audit a former customer who once told your Regional VP that he wouldn't ship with him again until he sucked his dick in his office, well, that's a whole different degree of difficulty.
It seems this electronics manufacturer had a habit of over loading his pallets as well as not securing them properly. After a few weight violations and shifting loads, our VP rescinded the contract which ultimately led to the proposed addendum of intra-office fellatio as a condition precedent to renewal.
But now the company had landed a government contract and the purchaser and the insurance company required them to use one of the better logistics firms, which meant us and only a couple others. Profit is a good thing and thus my boss decided to bid. And even though I had three years in Compliance which meant I was due to rotate soon, I was still the youngest and thus I got the assignment. Good experience the VP said with a grin.
I find myself sitting here across from a most unfriendly secretary who clearly knows the history between our bosses. But not my problem. They need us, not the other way around.
The door eventually open and a 30-Something comes over and sticks out his hand.
"Hi--Mr. Rone? I'm Tom Barton," said. "I'm Mr. Barton's nephew. Glad you could make it out here."
"Charles," I said standing and offering a hand.
Shaking it he continued, "I'll be your liaison here; come on in and let's get started."
"Let's do it," I replied.
We stepped into the office. The place was decorated in Western Testosterone: wood paneling, deer heads, photos of hunting and fishing, large desk and large guy behind it. He looked like he belonged on the floor of the factory, not in the corner office. Standing off to the side with her arms crossed was a lady with a real serious look about her.
He did not get up. I did not sit down.
He gestured with his thumb, "My sister -- Dawn -- the CFO; Tom is the HR manager."
I nodded, "Ma'am," and another nod for Tom.
"You know why you're here?" he growled.
"Yes Mr. Barton, I do. You're in a bind, you have a need, and we are a possible solution."
"You also know your boss over reacted and royally fucked me over?"
"Sorry, I don't work in this region; I'm at corporate. All I know is you got a contract and you need a Nine Level carrier to make sure your product gets to the customer."
"And your boss told you that the only way you would get my fucking business is to suck my dick?"
I glanced at his sister. She shrugged like it was a perfectly normal remark.
(Great) I thought (Next thing he's gonna do is stand up and pull it out, and I'll laugh and say 'gee that looks like a penis, only smaller' and then he'll come charging around the desk, and then---.)
"Actually, that was not part of the briefing," I said. "Look, I'm just here to make sure you're in DOT and ISO compliance. The faster I get to it, the faster I'm out of here and the faster my company can let you know if your customer can use you."
He paused. "Look, I really need this contract, and those assholes are making it hard. I need for you to make this work."
I shrugged. "If you're up to standards, then we've got no problem."
He looked back at his desk, flicked his hand in dismissal and said, "Tom will show you where to set up."
Having never sat down, my exit was quick.
Tom followed me out, pulling the door shut behind him.
"Uncle Greg is under bunch of stress," he offered. "And Aunt Dawn ain't none too happy either trying to keep the red ink out of the books."
Knowing this fellow was a direct pipeline back to the Ogre and the Sister, I was noncommittal. "You got a spare office or conference room with internet where I can set up?" I asked.
"Sure," he replied. "Down the hall---there's a spare office in my section."
"It's a family business?" I said, trying to be amiable.
"There are several of us throughout the company," he said. "Aunt and Uncle occupy the top of the org chart; cousins work around the place, mostly on the floor."
"How did you get an office job?" I asked.
"Majored in psychology, but nothing you can do with that unless you go post-grad. They needed someone they could trust, so I interned a little while and then took over."
By then we were at the door. I followed him to the generic interview room, round table, four chairs, phone stand next to a wall, no decorations or window.
"This works, thanks." I said. I pulled a folder out of my bag and handed it to him. "These are what I need for now---paper, PDF, or access to the files on the servers---whatever is easiest for you."
"I'll get on it; look me up when it's time to go to the condo," he said and off he went.
"Condo?" I asked.
"Yeah, we have a couple for visitors. I cancelled your hotel. Save the expense as a courtesy."
I grinned, "Trying to curry far? Thanks, and I'll need your Email please, in case I need to ask a question," I added.
As I'm setting up the computer, a lady comes in gives me a list of phone numbers, emails and passwords. Take the jacket off, roll up the sleeves, deep breath and get started.
In a short while, the paper starts coming. Mr. Benton may be a corner-cutter and an asshole, but his folks were cooperating. And my Emails bounced right back with an answer. Maybe they had cleaned up their act.
Before long, it was 7pm. I had enough to occupy a few more hours back at the condo. I went looking to see if there was anyone around to let me out without setting off an alarm. The place was deserted, but there was a light in Tom's office. He was focused on the computer screen; I called out to keep from startling him.
He looked up over his shoulder, acknowledged me with a nod of the head and said, "Grab a chair; I'll just be a moment."
I sat down.
"Ready to quit for the day?" he asked.
"Just moving from one place to the other," I replied. "Figured I should get out now before I get locked in."
"Oh yeah for sure," he says. "Uncle Greg would cut off my dick if I left you alone in here all night."
I shrugged, thinking what is it with these folks and dicks.
"Can you do me a favor?" he asked.
"I guess," I said.
"I've loaded an update and it needs to compile for a moment, and I need to go make sure the place is shut down ---computers off and stuff. You know the drill."
His Uncle is jerk, but I'm not holding any grudges here. "Sure, what do you need?"
"There's a screen that rotates clockwise and then counter clockwise while it builds. It starts at 10 each way and then winds down to one. You need to hit enter when it finishes, but you can pass the time counting the sequence," he said.
"Sounds challenging," I replied.
"Yep, very. But it will give you a mental break from all the spreadsheets. Then we can go."
"Sure," I said.
"Sit here," he said as he got out of chair.
I sat down and he reached around and clicked the mouse. "Don't lose count," he said with a smile.
I sat back and waited. The screen flickered for a moment or two and then the circle appeared. It wasn't smooth; it was like it had been painted with brush. The motion was easy to see. It was moving slowly at first and keeping track was no problem. When it got to 10, it paused, swelled and changed color from a lavender to a pale pink and then changed direction. Another 10, a pause, a swelling and a change back to the lavender.
Before it started up, there were a couple of flashes. Then the rotation began, a little faster it seemed.
Nine one way, then nine the other, a pause, swelling larger and changing color as it shrank, some flashes.
Eight -- Seven -- Six --
For some reason, I found myself leaning in closer, trying to see what the flashes were. I thought I could see a letter.
Five -- Four --Three
Leaning closer in.
Two --One
The circle stopped and began to pulse and it changed color as it went out and came in.
That went on for a bit and I kept watching--not counting, just watching.
Softly, so softly it did not startle me, I heard a voice say, "You're doing a good job, just keep watching, and if you find your eyes getting heavy, it's OK to let go and close them, still seeing the light pulsing and changing. Go ahead, let go."
The voice was very soft and suggestive, I did.
I could still see the rhythm of the light with my eyes closed.
The voice spoke to me ever so softly. But I was only focused on the light, I could not make it out.
And then it was quiet.